Danny Meyer's Maialino al Forno

In Ancient Rome, it was usually only the wealthy who got to enjoy roast suckling pig, but at Maialino, Danny Meyer’s newish Roman-style trattoria, a team of three can take it down for a New York reasonable $72.

We weren’t going to pass up a chance to eat like an aristocrat, with or without the wig. Chef Anderer provided us with some maialino al forno (“little pig from the oven”) so good that the only disappointment came later that night, when we returned to our estates and found our apartments instead of lavish villas.

Suckling pig is so good because a young pig packs plenty of collagen, so a lengthy roast turns the meat extra unctuous.  While the skin of the Spanish version is less crunchy, Anderer follows the Roman approach, applying a hot blast til the skin cracks like a Real Housewife of DC cleavage.

Choptank in Greenwich Village

As a 12-year veteran of Maryland residence, I've had "the Baltimore conversation" hundreds of times.  It's only complete once you've praised The Wire in all its glory (a Barksdale or McNulty quote isn't required but a stylistic choice), traded thoughts on a recent only-in-Baltimore news story (for the past year or so, I've gone with the Hopkins kid who used a Sumurai sword to dice up an intruder), and ultimately concluded that, despite all B-more's flaws, you just can't help but love the damn place.

This past weekend, Dave and I had a high-quality version of this conversation.  What was unusual was that the discussion took place with a New York bartender and a local cross-dresser in full make-up.  That was a first.

Where else would you have that opportunity but Choptank, the seafood restaurant in Greenwich Village that opened this past January.  The food is inspired by the flavors of the Chesapeake Bay, and, according to co-owner Bobby Werhane, targeted to NYC residents in a one-mile radius.

Ed felt the need to grab more than his mallet at Choptank.  As should go without saying, it was his birthday this past weekend.

If the framed oil-paintings of sailboats don't convince you of the place's Chesapeake bonafides, get to know the people who work there.  The bartender, Mid-Atlantic golden boy/Gilman-grad Mark, says he's regularly approached by other Maryland transplants with the same request: "You're from Baltimore, I'm from Baltimore, you seem cool - want to date my sister?  She's really hot!"  (Mark reports that he's flattered by all the attention but skeptical about the attractiveness of girls offered up to a random bartender.)

Still not convinced this place is dishing straight Maryland?  Well, there's a sweaty, musclebound dude back behind the restaurant steaming crabs for about six hours most days!

We shared a dozen Jimmies scattered over the middle of the table cast in a nice soft light filtering through a planked roof.  Ed and Betty listened closely to my crab-eating tutorial, and it didn't take long before they'd mastered the backfin pressure points and were gently coaxing hunks of meat like a Dogwood Harbor waterman. 

Dave, on the hand, ignored my advice and hammered the crab's midsection with the blind rage of the Trinity Killer.  The force with which he pounded his victim gradually ebbed to a half-hearted love-tap until, finally convinced that his strategy was hopeless, he retired his weapon and gave up.

The Indian Lithgow.  Anticipating the tomale-spatter, Betty recoils in horror.

Luckily for Dave, each of us also ordered entrees.

Dave's "CLT"

Dave and Ed both went with the "CLT" - catfish, lettuce, tomato, bacon, and spicy mayo, along with some awesome Old Bay potato chips.  On the recommendation of our "burger aficionado" waiter (like Mark, another cool guy who talked food, cars, and music with us), Betty went with the Choptank Burger, topped with Hook’s cheddar, pickle pepper mayo, and bacon jam and paired with "dark, brown, salty" fries that earned a "double huzzah" from Sam Sifton.

Demonstrating my unnatural obsession with crab meat, I decided the perfect complement to our big pile of crustaceans was "The Chesapeake": another big pile of jumbo lump crab and spicy hollandaise topped with creamy poached eggs and chervil.

The other patrons followed our lead - the thwacks of mallets filled the room as did easy conversation with the sun-bleached waitstaff that seemingly had been recruited from an Annapolis sailboat academy, or maybe the stands of Homewood Field during the High School Lacrosse Showdown.  Reviewer Sifton seemed a bit disappointed the place felt "safe as Cal Ripken" and didn't conjure The Wire.  Personally, I was fine talking about Detective McNulty while having no need for his murder-solving skills.

David Chang's Pork Belly Buns

It isn’t exactly news that restaurants frequently camouflage certain menu items to make them more acceptable to the average patron. I’m not so excited about eating that fluffy pigeon I saw in the park the other day, but it tastes damn good if we all agree to call it squab. And Patagonian toothfish is called Chilean sea bass so you don’t have to imagine fork-stabbing some fangy carnivorous sea monster.
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We restaurant patrons live in a dreamy state of blissful denial. David Chang lives in a state of thinking we’re all pansies.
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In 2003, when Chang decided to add pork belly buns to the menu at Momofuku, most restaurants didn’t think they could sell a dish called pork belly. So they played the euphemism game – “bacon” sold great.
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“I refuse to call it fresh bacon,” Chang said in an interview with NPR. “I was like, we’re going to call it what it is, pork belly.” Chang basically has the same cooking philosophy as Lafayette from True Blood: “Bitch, you come into my house, you gonna eat the food the way I f***in’ make it!”
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It took only a few short years for Momofuku's pork belly bun to become an NYC icon. Demand is such that Chang had to add it to the repertoire at two more of his restaurants, Ssam Bar and Milk Bar bakery.
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Before I found the recipe for these buns in the Momofuku Cookbook, my assumption was that all this popularity must be due to some tricky Changian cooking method. All he does, though, is slow-oven roast the belly, slap on some salty-sweet cucumbers and hoisin, and slide it all into a hot steamed bun.

Here's how the pork belly looked when I took it out of the oven after a couple hours of low heat.

After cooling the pork belly in the refrigerator, slicing, and bunning, I was ready to pounce.

It’s awesome. But it doesn’t necessarily surpass similar buns you can get in New York’s Chinatown (Chang gives props to Oriental Garden), other American big cities, Taiwan, Tokyo, and the street corners of Manila.
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The best pork belly bun in the D.C. area is the gua bao sandwich served at North China Restaurant in Bethesda, just beating out the gua bao at Bob’s Noodle 66 in Rockville.

With gua bao, the pork belly is braised in a liquid flavored with five-spice, then combined with sweet-sour pickled mustard greens, sugary chopped-up peanuts (think Pad Thai), and cilantro.
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If Chang’s pork bun and North China’s gua bao were bands, Chang’s version would be the Beatles, and North China’s would be the Talking Heads: it’s popular on my playlist, but never quite became the A-list celebrity I expected.
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What’s the difference? Whereas Chang was one of the first to proudly acknowledge pork belly, restaurants like North China followed the trend and disguised their pork belly buns as “Taiwanese Hamburgers.” Chang was just ahead of his time in realizing people were ready to think that eating something called pork belly was cool. And, of course, that’s just the way he f***in’ makes it.


Other blogs about pork belly buns:

Kitchen Sidecar
http://www.kitchensidecar.com/2008/12/david-chang-is-my-homeboy-momofuku-pork.html


Three Squabbling Asians
http://www.threesquabblingasians.com/cooking-david-chang-pork-buns/


Ambitious Delicious(ness)
http://www.ambitiousdeliciousness.com/2010/03/29/changs-pork-belly-buns/


Momofuku for 2
http://momofukufor2.com/2010/01/momofuku-pork-buns/


Here's the recipe for pork buns straight from Momofuku Cookbook:


Pork Buns
1. Heat the bun in a steamer on the stovetop. It should be hot to the touch, which will take almost no time with just-made buns and 2 to 3 minutes with frozen buns.

2. Grab the bun from the steamer and flop it open on a plate. Slather the inside with the hoisin sauce, using a pastry brush or the back of a spoon. Arrange the pickles on one side of the fold in the bun and the slices of pork belly on the other. Scatter the belly and pickles with sliced scallion, fold closed, and voilà: pork bun. Serve with sriracha.



Pork Belly

for ramen, pork buns & just about anything else

Make enough pork for 6 to 8 bowls of ramen or about 12 pork buns

• One 3-pound slab skinless pork belly

• 1/4 cup kosher salt

• 1/4 cup sugar

The best part of this belly, besides the unctuous, fatty meat itself, which we use in two of our most popular dishes at the restaurants-ramen and pork buns-is the layer that settles at the bottom of the pan after you chill it. Most cooks who are familiar with it know it from making duck confit, and they know it's liquid gold (or jellied gold, if you want to get technical). We label containers of it "pork jelly." I add it to broths, to taré, to vegetable sautés-anything that would benefit from a hit of meaty flavor and the glossier mouthfeel the gelatin adds.

To harvest it, decant the fat and juices from the pan you cooked the belly in into a glass measuring cup or other clear container. Let it cool until the fat separates from the meat juices, which will settle to the bottom. Pour or scoop off the fat and reserve it for cooking. Save the juices, which will turn to a ready-to-use meat jelly after a couple of hours in the fridge. The meat jelly will keep for 1 week in the refrigerator or indefinitely in the freezer.

We get pork belly without the skin. If you can only find skin-on belly, don't fret. If the meat is cold and your knife is sharp, the skin is a cinch to slice off. And you can save it to make the Chicharrón we serve as a first bite at Momofuku Ko.

1. Nestle the belly into a roasting pan or other oven-safe vessel that holds it snugly. Mix together the salt and sugar in a small bowl and rub the mix all over the meat; discard any excess salt-and-sugar mixture. Cover the container with plastic wrap and put it into the fridge for at least 6 hours, but no longer than 24.

2. Heat the oven to 450ºF.

3. Discard any liquid that accumulated in the container. Put the belly in the oven, fat side up, and cook for 1 hour, basting it with the rendered fat at the halfway point, until it's an appetizing golden brown.

4. Turn the oven temperature down to 250ºF and cook for another 1 hour to 1 hour 15 minutes, until the belly is tender-it shouldn't be falling apart, but it should have a down pillow-like yield to a firm finger poke. Remove the pan from the oven and transfer the belly to a plate. Decant the fat and the meat juices from the pan and reserve (see the headnote). Allow the belly to cool slightly.

5. When it's cool enough to handle, wrap the belly in plastic wrap or aluminum foil and put it in the fridge until it's thoroughly chilled and firm. (You can skip this step if you're pressed for time, but the only way to get neat, nice-looking slices is to chill the belly thoroughly before slicing it.)

6. Cut the pork belly into 1/2-inch-thick slices that are about 2 inches long. Warm them for serving in a pan over medium heat, just for a minute or two, until they are jiggly soft and heated through. Use at once.

Top 10 Excerpts from Anthony Bourdain’s new book, Medium Raw: A Bloody Valentine to the World of Food and the People Who Cook

1. Description of the process it took for him to finally feel ready to become a father. Now that he’s a dad, he admits that the “clock’s ticking on the earring. It’s somehow … undignified now,” and that it’s way too late for him to “bask in the glory of past coolness.” He was the star pupil at Lamaze class.

2. Assessment of Alice Waters. “Is Alice even a chef? Was she ever a chef – in any conventional sense of that word? I, for one, after reading all the accounts, official and unofficial, of Alice’s career and the history of Chez Panisse, can’t find a single supporting source to verify that she was ever a chef. And yet, year after year, she is described adoringly as such by people who know better. And if she’s not a chef … well then, who is she? And why is she allowed to annoy me? Why do I listen to her? Why do I care?”

3. Chapter called “Heroes and Villains.” Heroes include Fergus Henderson, Jonathan Gold, Jamie Oliver, Wylie Dufresne, Terrence Brennan, Jim Harrison, Mario Batali, Eric Ripert, and Jose Andres. Villains include Gael Greene, Wolfgang Puck, Brooke Johnson (head of Food Network), and Alan Ducasse. Excluded from the list of villains is Mark Bittman, although Bourdain later writes that he’d like to “shove my head through the glass of my TV screen and take a giant bite out of his skull.”

4. A 15 page chapter called “Alan Richman is a Douchebag,” at the end of which he admits maybe he got it wrong: “Alan Richman is not a douchebag. He’s a c*nt.”

5. Theory about the appropriate moment for people to learn the art of omelet-making: “Perhaps there should be an unspoken agreement that in the event of loss of virginity, the more experienced of the partners should, afterward, make the other an omelet – passing along the skill at an important and presumably memorable moment.”

6. Coining the adjective “king-hell,” as in “one king-hell, motherf---er of a burger.”

7. Chapter about using “what Malcolm X called ‘any means necessary’” to prevent his daughter from developing a taste for McDonalds.

8. Admission that he’d never make it to the finals if he were a contestant on Top Chef. “I’ll tell you honestly that if I were a contestant? I might, maybe – if I was lucky, and only through a combination of years of experience, stealth, strategy, and guile – duck and dodge my way through a few weeks.” Top Chef is a “fascinating drama for food nerds” because the best chef “doesn’t necessarily win. The most technically skilled cook, or the most creative, often ocerreaches, chokes, makes a crucial and inexplicable error of judgment. Just like real life. The chef left standing after all the others have fallen represents the qualities you’d want of a chef in the real world: a combination of creativity, technical skill, leadership abilities, flexibility, maturity, grace under pressure, sense of humor, and sheer strength and exuberance."

9. Description of his state of mind when he wrote Kitchen Confidential: “I was both gloriously free of hope that it would ever be read outside of a small subculture of restaurant people in New York City – and boiling with the general ill-will of the unsatisfied, the envious, and the marginal. Let it be funny for cooks and waiters – and f--- everybody else, was pretty much my thinking at the time.”

10. Changing his mind about the famous advice in Kitchen Confidential to skip the fish when dining at restaurants on Mondays. “Eat the f---ing fish on Monday already. Okay? I wrote those immortal words about not going for the Monday fish, the ones that’ll haunt me long after I’m crumbs in a can, knowing nothing other than New York City. And times, to be fair, have changed.”

Q&A with Doug Cress of the Supertaster Test

I exchanged a few emails with Doug Cress, who administers the Supertaster Test and runs http://www.supertastertest.com/.  For more background information about supertasters, click here.

Fuchs Foodie Journal: I think the test is really interesting, but I couldn't determine whether I was a non-taster or a taster because I wasn't sure about the difference between a bland taste (taster) and a nothing taste (non-taster).

Doug Cress: A non-taster will taste nothing - as a comparison, you may wish to sample a piece of coffee filter (the materials are similar).
A taster will notice a mildly bitter taste - as a taster you will have noticed some flavor. Which leads me to believe you are a non-taster.

FFJ: Agreed - seems like I'm a non-taster. Would you be able to estimate the accuracy of this test? Based on the magnifying lens experiment, I'd concluded that I was a normal taster, although it's possible I simply didn't count my papilla correctly. Do the results of the taste test tend to be pretty consistent with the results of other supertaster tests like the magnifying lens experiment, surveys, etc?


D: I haven't done any research on the subject myself - however, there are some good resources to be found on supertastertest.com and elsewhere online.

FFJ: Given how one's perception and enjoyment of certain tastes - such as bitterness - can change over time due to exposure, do you think it's possible that a non-taster might develop the ability to detect the taste of PROP, and (2) a supertaster who initially disliked the taste of PROP might learn to like it?


D: [Here are some] tips to improve taste sensitivity:


Avoid overexposing your taste buds to any one flavor, as this can temporarily deaden your sensitivity. Switching from one food to another several times during a meal will help avoid taste bud desensitization.


Avoid eating foods when they are very hot or very cold - flavors are less intense.


After brushing your teeth, wait 10 to 15 minutes to eat. Lauryl sulfate, an ingredient in toothpaste will trigger a drop in taste sensitivity.


Quit smoking. Smoking has been suspected of either inhibiting or destroying the mouth’s ability to function properly.


Ask your doctor about the potential side effects of any newly prescribed drug.



I don't believe it would be possible for non-tasters to detect the taste of prop or vice versa. However, there is some research that shows our sense of taste deteriorates over time.

Sarah and Devin's Food Adventures in Scandinavia and Eastern Europe

This past month, Sarah was in Scandinavia and Eastern Europe.  As compensation for the fact that she didn't smuggle any food through customs for me, she wrote this awesome blog:

What an honor to be a guest writer on Matt’s blog! A few disclaimers: First, I don’t consider myself that knowledgeable about food, so many of the interesting food things from this trip were sought out by my travel partner, Devin. Second, we were on a budget and very busy, so much of the time we hit up grocery stores for bread, cheese, and dried meats and made picnics.

So, Devin and I traveled to Scandinavia and Eastern Europe the first two weeks of July. Our main point of the trip was a conference in Riga, Latvia, but we were able to make a nice vacation of it and visited lots of neat places.

Our first day we were in Bergen, Norway. Here we went to a fish market and tasted fresh salmon and caviar. I stuck with cooked salmon while Devin went for the smoked salmon and the caviar. This market reminded me of the fish market in Seattle. They even threw fish around.

Devin and I then traveled up the Norwegian fjords to this cute fjord town called Balestrand. It looked like something in the movies, and the fjord scenery was beautiful and dramatic. Of course, there were quite a few different restaurants listed in our guide book, but we found our way here. (I have a love of hot dogs.)

 

Who could pass up a hot dog restaurant in a cardboard Viking ship? Not us. Devin had some curry bratwurst. He liked them. I ate this.

And it was amazing. My sister says that I should post this online, and I would get lots of dates. I have no idea on earth what she’s alluding to. We also shared very salty and very yummy crinkle-cut French fries.

So far, our Norwegian food experience wasn’t all the Norwegian, so Devin and I headed to dinner at the Kvinkes Hotel in Balestrand for their evening smorgasboard. It was pretty awesome, if not a tad overpriced, but we had time to experience many different items (i.e., dried reindeer, dried lamb, 5 types of pickled herrings). I first wasted stomach space with the salad bar.

 
 
We also had a pretty fun time at the dessert and cheese station as evidenced by the next two photos. The chocolate thing in a circle (not sure what it was, but it wasn’t really chocolate mousse) was the best!

Now to my important discovery in Scandinavia! They LOVE ciders! Now this may not be that important to most people, but to someone who really isn’t a beer drinker but likes to hang out in bars, ciders are very important. They look like beer (red wine does not look like beer), but they taste 1000 times better.

At our very first outdoor bar stop in Bergen, I saw they had cider. It wasn’t apple cider. It was pear cider! I was a little suspicious as Devin brought it to the table, but after the first sip, I completely forgot that apple cider exists! Pear cider kicks its ass! It is sweet, but not too sweet, and so smooth. Almost like drinking water.

Here’s my cider on a cruise in the Norwegian fjords. I look very happy.

On that same cruise, Devin is displaying his beer of choice and some of our goodies picked up at the grocery store. The ballerina cookies that he is holding up were my favorite cookies from the trip. I think he’s holding the chocolate version, but there was a raspberry version with cream inside that were really yummy.

Now the last food thing I’ll write about in Norway, was our stop to the tiny village of Undredel on the Naeroyfjord. This picturesque town is famous for their goat cheese. I bought some of that (not pictured) but Devin was swayed into buying this.

It may look like a brownie or fudge, but it’s actually cheese. I wish that it smelled like a brownie or fudge. It didn’t. It smelled like poo. It’s actually cheese that has been carmelized. Devin said that it almost tasted desserty. That did not convince me to try it. I stuck with white goat cheese. (Please note that the entire thing of white goat cheese was eaten. This brown crap found it’s way into a hostel trash can, even though Devin said that he “liked” it.)

Now on to Copenhagen, Denmark.

Devin had read about smorrebrod, which are these open-faced sandwiches popular with Danes. We went to a cute shop and picked out six for lunch one day. Here Devin poses with the sandwiches, although you can’t really see what’s on them.

I had three sandwiches: eggs and tuna, shrimp, and some dried meat that tasted awesome. They were all very flavorful. My favorite was the shrimp. Devin ate sandwiches with pate and salmon. The sandwiches were very filling even though they were quite small.


Another thing that Devin had read about were hot dog carts scattered throughout Copenhagen that provided cheap meals. I guess these are very popular with Danish people. Devin got a hot dog with the works. Mine was wrapped in bacon with fried onions on top. Amazing!

At this point, I can’t believe how many pictures we took with food! I had no idea that we would ever focus exclusively on food (or have a guest blog), so I’m amazed we have so much to show!

Now a cider photo! At Tivoli gardens in Copenhagen. This one was infused with blueberries and elderflowers. They had a strawberry and rhubarb variety, but I chose this instead. It was (of course) great!

One our second morning in Copenhagen, we went and ate “Danishes” but they are so much better than the crappy Danishes here in the states. I have no picture, but mine was a cinnamon one with chocolate and vanilla. Devin’s was more earthy with some grains and seeds. He said it was good, but I know mine was better.

On to Stockholm, Sweden. We went to this amazing open-air museum called Skansen. My sister and I had been a few years back and thought it was the cutest place ever, so I made Devin go. He loved it as much as my sister. And, upon returning, I ate the exact same thing as four years ago. (I’m a habitual eater.)

Of course, Swedish meatballs! They tasted exactly like the kind at IKEA. (I’m so worldly!) The meatballs were accompanied by perfectly-boiled boiled potatoes. I’ve never had potatoes that were so tasty. I raved about the potatoes for a very long time to Devin. Also, there was lingonberry sauce on the side. The combination of sauce and gravy and meatballs and potatoes is wonderful. I also tried a strawberry cupcake (awesome) and some pear cider (doubly awesome).


Speaking of lingonberries, we went to an Ice Bar in Stockholm where I had vodka mixed with lingonberries in a glass made of ice. It was an interesting, and cold, mix.

Devin went more for the straight vodka.

We had a great meal out in Stockholm after the ice bar. (No pictures!) I had pepper steak, and Devin had rainbow trout. These were suggested as the best things on the menu, and they were pretty tasty. Dessert was a cheese plate. The Scandinavians love their cheese!

As we traveled by cruise ship from Stockholm to Riga, we did run across the largest grape we had ever seen.

As with most large fruits, it wasn’t really that tasty!


Now, to Riga, Latvia and Tallinn, Estonia. Here we met up with another friend from Vanderbilt, Michael. He will love that he is on this blog.

For our first dinner out in Riga, I had a fantastic salmon. Devin and Michael each had stroganoff. I have no pictures of the food, but we were there. Dessert was crème brulee.
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We enjoyed some beer and cider late into the evening. Because the sun sets so late, everyone was out and sitting at outdoor places all around Riga. It was quite fun!

We made the trip up to Tallinn for some medieval sightseeing. We enjoyed lunch at a beer house where I had four sausages in a bean sauce. The biggest sausage was my favorite. The bean sauce was the perfect complement.

Devin and Michael tried out Estonian fastfood at this place. They said the burgers weren’t quite as tasty as McDonald’s but still good after a hot day walking around Tallinn.

Our last night in Riga, we ate at a very traditional Latvian place for young people. For an appetizer we had a meat and cheese plate. For dinner, I had a turkey sandwich, Michael had pork neck, and Devin had this creature.

The only thing that looks good (to me) are the French fries, but Devin said that the fish was tasty. We topped off our meal (and the entire trip) with some wonderful desserts and beers and ciders!

We did seem to try quite a few different food things. With all the walking and carrying of backpacks, however, we didn’t actually gain too many pounds! Scandinavia was so awesome, go sometime if you can!

Thanks!

Momofuku Sous Vide Hanger Steak

The ghetto: Trash in the street.  Criminals on the corner.  Sous vide in the kitchens?

Go for it, Compton. In his Momofuku cookbook, David Chang offers up a recipe for "ghetto sous vide" hanger steak.


But restaurants buy their sous vide machines for about a thousand bucks.  The Sous Vide Supreme that came out last year for home cooking dings the register at $449. 


How, exactly, is this supposed to conjure Section 8 housing?

  Sous Vide Supreme

   courtesy of Serious Eats

Slum Feed Supreme

Easy - Chef Chang ditches all the high-tech gadgets for a pot of water and a high-quality Ziploc bag. 
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Welcome to the jungle.  We've got fun and games.  And fancy-ass French cooking.

Sous vide became popular in France only a few decades ago.  You wrap everything from steaks to vegetables in a vacuum-seal and cook in water at a constant temperature well below the boiling point.  With the food sealed in plastic, its juices can't escape.  Flavors get magnified.  The method has been used frequently on Top Chef, and, in 2008, Thomas Keller released a cookbook about sous vide called Under Pressure.  

So why do amateur cooks in the U.S. remain lukewarm?  Here's a clue: if you screw up, sous vide can cause botulism.  In 2006, New York's Department of Health placed a temporary moratorium on sous vide and now requires restaurants to submit safety plans.  Apparently, Americans are finicky when it comes to respiratory failure.

But bacteria doesn't grow in an oxygen-free environment unless you store the sous vide bag in the refrigerator for a while after you've finished cooked.  That's why, as long as you eat your food right away, it's safe to mess with sous vide whether you be super chef or ghetto superstar.

I made the marinade with apple juice, soy sauce, thinly sliced onions, garlic, and Asian sesame oil and combined with four eight-ounce hanger steak in a Ziploc bag.

Next, you need to create a zero-oxygen environment in the bag. One option: spending about 100 bucks on a vacuum sealer.  But that doesn't fly in the projects.  I just used a straw to suck all the air out.

After marinating in the refrigerator for 24 hours, put a large pot in the sink and run your faucet hot.  When my food thermometer read between 120 and 125 degrees, I submerged the portion of the bag filled with food into the water.

The Sous Vide Supreme contains a computer-controlled heating element to maintain the water temperature within one-tenth of a degree.  In the ghetto, though, you just keep a steady trickle of warm water flowing into the pot.  The temperature might have fluctuated a degree or two, but my trickle was free.

After 45 minutes, I removed the bag from the water, unzipped, and took out the hangers.  The final step was to brown the outside of the steak.  Chang recommends high heat over a grill.  No problem. 

Please step back a few feet from your computer before scrolling down.

That's not one of those laser-shooting alien tripods from War of the Worlds.  It's my new Kitchen Torch from Williams-Sonoma.  It blazed my steaks for a smoky char, and did so quickly, without jeopardizing the perfectly raw interior.

I plated alongside a stir-fry of oyster mushrooms, bok choy, and scallions topped with ssamjang, the Korean condiment often served with bulgogi.

This steak was the killerest, to borrow a bit of Changian vernacular.  Because of the sous vide process, the meat was cooked evenly, but what really struck me was the way the bag's firm grip on the juices had intensified the flavors of the marinade and steak.  Hanger steaks, which "hang" from the diaphragm of the steer, have long been enjoyed by the French (with a red wine shallot sauce, alongside frites) and North Mexicans (marinated, grilled, and rolled into tortillas with guacamole): proximity to the animal's kidney imparts extra flavor.

The dish showed off the dynamic nature of Chang's cooking style.  He's made his name mixing Asian and American flavors with French technique, while keeping it casual and real like a hood rat.  Leave it to the guy who started Momofuku, the "anti-restaurant," to perfect the anti sous vide.

Other blogs on Ghetto Sous Vide:

Momofuku for 2
http://momofukufor2.com/2010/04/ghetto-sous-vide-marinated-hanger-steak-saam/

Freestyle Cooking
http://billievethat.wordpress.com/2010/01/06/sink-steak/

Peter's Eats
http://peterseats.blogspot.com/2010/01/ghetto-sous-vide-hanger-steak-with.html

Supertaster Test Strips Arrive; Not sure What Kind of Taster I Am But Thyroid Feels Great

As part of my ongoing/endless quest to determine what kind of "taster" I am, I mail ordered these Supertaster Test Strips from a company called Superior Diagnostics.

The test strips are impregnated with a chemical and thyroid medication known as 6-n-propylthiouracil (PROP). The ability to taste PROP has been associated with the bitter taste receptor gene TAS2R38.

For $4.95, you can order the test strips here.

To conduct the test, all you do is put one of the strips of paper on your tongue.  Non-tasters taste nothing; medium tasters experience a mild bitterness or "blandness", and supertasters find the paper extremely bitter.

The Supertaster test kit didn't quite provide the definitive results I was looking for.  I either tasted nothing or blandness, which makes me either a non-taster or a medium taster.  Maybe Superior Diagnostics can explain the difference between a bland taste and the taste of nothing?

Eating to Live or Living to Eat?

The Resident Psychologist found this one at WSJ:

Stomach vs. Brain: Discovering Why Some People Can Resist Dessert While Others Can't

Imagine the typical office birthday party.

It's after lunch, so everybody is full. Then, in comes a luscious chocolate confection. The sight, the smell—even the sound of the word "cake!"—stimulate the reward-and-pleasure circuits of the brain, activating memory centers and salivary glands as well.

Those reactions quickly drown out the subtle signals from the stomach that are saying, in effect, "Still digesting down here. Don't send more!" Social cues add pressure and permission to indulge. Soon, everybody is having a slice—or two.

Scholars have understood the different motives for eating as far back as Socrates, who counseled, "Thou shouldst eat to live, not live to eat." But nowadays, scientists are using sophisticated brain-imaging technology to understand how the lure of delicious food can overwhelm the body's built-in mechanism to regulate hunger and fullness, what's called "hedonic" versus "homeostatic" eating.

One thing is clear: Obese people react much more hedonistically to sweet, fat-laden food in the pleasure and reward circuits of the brain than healthy-weight people do. Simply seeing pictures of tempting food can light up the pleasure-seeking areas of obese peoples' brains.

In a study presented this week at the International Conference on Obesity in Stockholm, researchers from Columbia University in New York showed pictures of cake, pies, french fries and other high-calorie foods to 10 obese women and 10 non-obese women and monitored their brain reactions on fMRI scans. In the obese women, the images triggered a strong response in the ventral tegmental area (VTA), a tiny spot in the midbrain where dopamine, the "desire chemical," is released. The images also activated the ventral pallidum, a part of the brain involved in planning to do something rewarding.

"When obese people see high-calorie foods, a widespread network of brain areas involved in reward, attention, emotion, memory and motor planning is activated, and all the areas talk to each other, making it hard for them to resist," says lead investigator Susan Carnell, a research psychiatrist at the New York Obesity Research Center at Columbia University.

Similar brain reactions occurred in the obese subjects even when researchers merely said the words "chocolate brownie"—but not when they saw or heard about lower calorie foods such as cabbage and zucchini. Reactions were far less pronounced in the non-obese subjects.

More such studies are being presented in Pittsburgh this week at the annual meeting of the Society for the Study of Ingestive Behavior. In one, neuroscientists from Yale University's John B. Pierce Laboratory had 13 overweight and 13 normal-weight subjects smell and taste chocolate or strawberry milkshakes and observed their brains with fMRI scans.

The overweight subjects had strong reactions to the food in the amygdala—the emotional center of the brain—whether they were hungry or not. The healthy-weight subjects showed an amygdala response only when they were hungry.

Studies have found that a diet of sweet, high-fat foods can indeed blunt the body's built-in fullness signals. Most of them emanate from the digestive tract, which releases chemical messengers including cholecystokinin, glucagon-like peptide and peptide YY when the stomach and intestines are full. Those signals travel up to the brain stem and then the hypothalamus, telling the body to stop eating.

—Email healthjournal@wsj.com.

Indian Wedding Celebrates Independence from Hunger

In the traditional Hindu wedding, the bride and groom walk seven laps around the holy fire, and with each revolution, they exchange a special vow.  Before such trivial afterthoughts as health and happiness, the first of the seven promises is: "To provide for food always." 

This, clearly, is my kind of religion.

Just in case there are any doubts about the sincerity of this vow, consider the three feasts I recently enjoyed  at my friend Alok's wedding in Columbus. 

First up was the pre-wedding dinner on Saturday night.  We shuttled from the hotel to a huge house in the suburbs and were greeted warmly by these chicken and cauliflower dishes:

Traditionally, the mother makes sure the menu for this reception includes all the bride's favorite dishes.  In that case, I applaud Swati's tastebuds; the chicken and cauliflower were tender and cooked perfectly.  Garlic and onions were known in ancient times as aphrodisiacs, so Hindu scriptures say to avoid them at pre-wedding events.  Judging by the flavor here, though, it's a safe guess the caterer took the libertine approach.

At that point, we assembled inside the house for a solemn ceremony of introductions between the families of the bride and groom.  All blood relatives raised their hands slowly and meaningfully when called upon, initiating deep bonds between the two families.  As the ancient custom dictates, the uncle of the groom greeted particularly attractive members of both families by howling, "She's HOT!"  Okay, maybe things weren't so solemn.



By then, I was content to conclude that dinner was over.  Then I saw this: 

It took me the rest of the night to pay my respects.  We were so busy eating we actually missed the last shuttle and had to hitch a late-night ride back to the hotel with some strangers.

The next day was Sunday, July 4, and Alok was spotted first thing in the morning perched atop a Clydesdale like the commander of a cavalry squadron in the Continental Army, albeit one dressed in fitted trousers and a turban.  The percussion of fireworks was drowned out by the beating of the dholak, a north Indian hand drum, as Alok steered the mighty beast, followed by hundreds of wedding guests, to the bride's house (actually, the Crowne Plaza Hotel).

The ceremony had something of a carnival atmosphere.  Guests talked freely in the aisles and thought nothing of lengthy disappearances from their seats, and the smaller ones took advantage of these absences by reclining across empty chairs to enjoy naps.  At one point, a pack of young women stole Alok's shoes and fought over them.  A couple guests who were Catholic said it dawned on them during the wedding that they would have preferred an Indian upbringing.

After the ceremony, Marcy and I wasted little time before diving into the lunch buffet:

Highlights included the saag paneer, aloo makhani (a very traditional North Indian wedding treat), and Maharashtrian dal, but everything was incredibly tasty and authentic ... wait, are those taquitos?

"Indian people love Mexican food," explained one Indian friend.  This passion might stem, in part, from the wave of Punjabi immigrants who came to California's Imperial Valley as farmers in the early 1900s.  Many of them married Mexican women because they shared a rural way of life and were thought to resemble Punjabis.

Mexican plus Indian might have worked in the Imperial Valley, but it did us in.  We spent the next few hours poolside, relying on sleep to reverse the effects of gorging and rekindle our appetites. 

I didn't quite regain my eating legs until I waddled down to the pre-dinner reception and laid eyes to this samosa chaat station:

Taj Palace employee works the chaat while a shady business deal transpires in the background

Our man loads up the samosas, chickpeas and potatoes ....

... splashes on some coriander and date chutneys, chaat masala and chili powder ...

... and serves

Appetite sufficiently whetted, I proceeded to the main event:

Indians are known for the variety of their desserts, and we were treated to numerous mysore pak:

These desserts, made out of ghee, sugar and chick pea flour, were artfully rendered as watermelon, strawberries, and pears - and gastronomically rendered to taste like the fruit they resembled.  No word yet whether the Heart Attack Grill in Arizona will be adding these calorie-packers to the "taste worth dying for" section of their menu.

The festivities wrapped up with a couple hours of dancing to the beats of Goa trance music.  Marcy said I was off-rhythm, and I don't recall hearing the uncle describe my moves as "HOT!"  Still, inspired by the excellent food - and more than a few glasses of Indian Scotch whiskey - my merry-making extended into the wee hours of the night.